


Justice. Just Us

by BadgerDame



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Batjokes, Bonding, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Lovers, Joker is a little shit, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn, Team Up, vigilante joker
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-28
Updated: 2018-03-04
Packaged: 2019-03-25 02:07:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 20,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13824228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BadgerDame/pseuds/BadgerDame
Summary: When the status-quo between Batman and the Joker that kept everything in place had been shattered. A new threat that would forever change the games between them. A need to adapt and rectify everything was in order. Joker had almost lost his playmate for good. He wasn't about to let that happen again. Batman just wants to prevent what seems to be the inevitable, not that the Joker would ever make that easy for him.





	1. Chapter 1

Gotham City had always demanded a sort of balance to be able to keep itself stable. A balance between chaos and justice that ran as deep into the very concrete roots of this city. Without it, well, everything would fall apart at the seams. Upsetting the natural order of the world wouldn’t be beneficial to anyone involved. That simple balance that took on the form of two opposing forces that never had any intention of breaking until the other one broke first. In short, it left a game to be desired and pursued to its rightful conclusion. Only one could survive in the end. A Bat King who ruled the darkness this city had to offer versus a Clown Prince who could bring as much merriment and a laughing death punchline to all its audience in spades.

 

A game of cat and mouse that would leave a trail of bodies in its wake until the next show would start the whole cycle all over again. Never ending until the stitch that forever bonded the Bat and the Clown was cut with a single slice of a knife.

 

Codependency was allowed to fester in the cracks of their fights against each other. A slow poison that crept under the surface undetected until it was far too late for the infected to notice in time to do anything about it. A sick joke that was absolutely hilarious as it was damning to the very core of one's essence. Giving meaning in a world that had none to offer up on a silver platter. All the cards stacked in one's favor if they paid enough attention to use the winning hand. Where a Bat would live in self-ingrained denial of the connection, but the Clown would embrace the embers that would grow into a raging inferno threatening to swallow him whole. One day, all the pieces would fall in their proper places and the biggest punchline would make Gotham City laugh itself into enteral silence.

 

Laughter echoed through the room for all to hear. If only all, but one person was still alive to notice it. It really didn’t matter if no one joined in the laughter, their smiles were enough proof to the clown that they enjoyed the joke. The rain pattered against the window as thunder cracked the skies above. Bad weather was as essential as the balance was for Gotham City.

 

Boredom was another slow killer that wasn’t pleasant to stand in the least. It sucked all the fun out of a game meant for two. A certain change of pace was needed to be added to spice the relationship up. Couldn’t allow everything to become stale after all. Boredom wasn’t always awful. It left Joker in a state of mind to have inspiration for new wonderful games to play. An invitation to set up a new dance for his playmate. Which unfortunately these days seeing the Bat was growing slimmer and slimmer.

 

He couldn’t have that. Gotham would never allow it, but it was happening all the same. Batman’s attention was being divided in so many directions that Joker had to set up more and more elaborate schemes to even be graced with the others presence. It really shouldn’t be getting this tedious just to get his Bats love taps. The lack of attention infuriated him. Regardless, he couldn’t hold his Bat fully responsible, no matter how much he wanted to.

 

See, the status-quo that kept everything in place had been shattered. Distorting the reality that Joker held so firmly in place. A disease that was festering in this playground of theirs and that needed to be eradicated. As soon as possible, preferably; if he had a say in the matter. Which of course; he did. There was only one problem. Not an unfixable issue, but was taxing at best. Where Joker understood what course of action needed to be implemented with dealing with a nuisance of pests. His playmate, however, wouldn’t do what was necessary to stop it. The Bat’s pesky moral code he held onto for his own self-denials of how alike they truly were stood in the way of turning everything back to normal. It was almost infuriating to maddening degrees, if the Joker didn’t easily forgive his only friend for his flaws.

 

New laws and protocols had been enacted in Gotham to prevent more grand ol’ times to be had. If truth be told, it made Gotham City more of a hazard zone for ones well-being than it was previously. The non-existing puppets had acted out against their original purpose for the only two people who existed amusement. Causing a sort of havoc that even Joker didn’t find very funny. Sure, the Bat didn’t abide by laws if his vigilante hero status was anything to go by. _HA, now that was good joke!_ Batman held a brutality- a darkness- in him that Joker had seen over and over again which only made the clown fall deeper in love for his other half even more each time he got the pleasure to see it.

 

 _So, no._ He couldn’t stay pissed at his playmate. Joker was sure the Dark Knight was doing everything in his power to continue their games; the best he could, anyways. Bless that little black heart of his Bat. The vigilante really does try so hard. Joker could count on him to come out of his cave and play. He needed to believe that. Doubting that very concept would break apart his heart. Destroy everything inside him. If the Bat recoiled from him now of all times, well, he wasn’t sure he could handle that situation at all. Or, more importantly, how he would react according to a situation like that taking place.

 

Best not to think of those impossibilities. Stressing over trivial nonsense couldn’t be good for his complexion. Needed to stay looking his best for his deviously handsome dance partner. He couldn’t afford any frown lines. That would just be unsightly and Joker was quite pleased with his appearance; thank you very much! How could he not be? He was one dashing homicidal maniac. Well, now, he was getting off track; wasn’t he?

 

 _Point being,_ certain factors had now spiced everything up in their playground and not for the better.

 

When it came down to it, desperation called for other means to achieve a goal.

 

For a Joker card to be thrown down on the table and change the entire outcome of an almost winnable hand.

 

A fact that was downright hilarious in the worse possible way. Didn’t matter, he’d laugh at the joke of his life no matter how growingly morbid it was becoming. Perhaps, even mister doom and gloom would get a chuckle at the events that were no doubt to come.

 

 _Who was he kidding?_ Getting so much as a smirk from the Bat was nearly impossible on his best day.

 

The Bat-Signal had stopped shinning in the sky seven months ago. That’s when everything changed. When the whole balance was thrown for a twisted loop. It wouldn’t have caught the eye of the average Joe in Gotham, but Joker had seen the red flags before everything went to shit. Seen all of it from his cell in Arkham when the quacks who called themselves experts of the mind _-HA-_ thought he wasn’t observant enough to pay much attention. It was effortless to read their intentions. To see the growing murderous excitement in their gazes when they watched the patients scuffle about. No one else noticed the change of standard routine, but the Joker. Figures that everything that could go wrong would start at Arkham Asylum first. Not that Joker decided to stick around for it to happen. He had more important matters to attend to than watching the dominos fall. He had seen enough- experienced to much- to know what was coming next. News, regardless, travel fast and disappearances that most would assume were the norm of escapes from the revolving door that was his home away from home; hid the despicable truth.

 

Joker wondered if even the great detective that the Bat was had figured out what was really going on. 

 

The game -possibly- forever changed and the need to adapt was becoming more crystal clear. He was sure this wouldn’t last; hoped it wouldn’t, but he might as well enjoy himself while he could. It made dealing with the now reality of his life easier to handle. Laughing away the creeping memories that kept wanting to resurface and drag the clown down into suffocating despair. A frown wouldn’t look good on him after all. Better to smile and laugh at the lunacy of this sick joke than let everything get him down.

 

Not that it didn’t change the hot boiling rage whenever he thought back on the one particular month when things changed. Didn’t curb the ache in his heart when his playmate was almost lost to him forever. How seeing a broken Bat who was near the brink of death and not caused by his hand was just downright unfathomable that Joker would have killed someone just for thinking of that possibility and, yet, he had witnessed it with his own eyes. It left a permanent impression on him that he never wanted to experience it again.

 

It made his Bat-King, no, his Bat-God, almost seem utterly and completely... _human._

 

_Almost._

 

Joker would never delude himself into that mindset.

 

However, it was the closest he had ever come in the years since his rebirth in the acid of Ace Chemicals to pondering such a fallacy to that regard.

 

In a small way that terrified him, more than he could ever thought possible. Shook him to his very core. It was overwhelming and crippling that he was positive Scary would have had a field day if that tidbit of information got out. Not that it ever would. Joker would rather die; preferably by Batman, than ever let that condemning intel slip out to the masses.

 

_That was unacceptable and retribution was in order._

 

Joker would make sure of it and no one would be able to prevent him from seeking bloodshed for a slight so significant against his entire world view.

 

The Clown Prince was convinced even the unmovable object that was the almighty Bat King couldn’t hold any weight against the unstoppable force he was about to unleash on all that allowed the unthinkable to happen.

 

He would have been disappointed in his Bat, if he gave it to much thought.

 

It was just so uncharacteristically asinine that Batman even succumbed to a thing like that happening.

 

His playmate always had a plan. Always prevailed and survived no matter what this putrid city threw at him. Joker should know better than anyone as he himself never went easy in their games. When they played together, Joker always gave it his all. He couldn’t disappoint his friend. Wouldn’t even dream of it. Still, he trusted the Bat to always survive. Because, that’s what, Batsy never failed to do. Joker loved that about him. Embraced everything that his Bat was capable of becoming if only the Dark Knight would laugh away all his restraint.

 

Now that would be a day worth dying for and he had the full intention of that being the case.

 

When he found his best friend in his dire state, left out like a piece of disposable trash, when instead all of Gotham City should regard him as the Bat King that he is, something snapped within the Clown Prince of Crime. That short three week’s that followed where he kept his playmate safe, until, he was positive that he could allow the Bat to fly from the nest should have been the best time of his life. It hadn’t been. Well, not a hundred percent true. Spending that much time with his best friend was wonderful, even if Bat would lie to himself and disagree. It really had been a nice bonding experience after rarely seeing his other half for a long while. Joker would even go out on a limb and say it was very much needed for their relationship to progress. Sadly, he couldn’t keep the Bat with him for long. At the same time, Joker hated to admit that he didn’t want to.

 

_At least not in those circumstances._

 

Not when the raging emotions he was trying to keep under the surface kept simmering in his mind.

 

Many times he lost his temper with his weakened playmate and, well, let’s just say, luckily for them both Bats were incredibly durable creatures.

 

In the end the Bat had to leave and Joker let him. Not that he was exactly there at the time to stop him, but it’s the thought that counts. Joker told himself.

 

The Bat King needed to rule over his dark kingdom and the Court Jester needed to respect that.

 

A Court Jester also needed to bring about both good news and bad in the most effective way possible. To brighten up the day of his Bat King and bring color into that gloomy world of his friends own making. For one day a smile would replace that eternal frown. A glare in the enticing blue orbs of the Bat, that would one day hold such radiating murderous intensity the whole kingdom would crumble under the Batman’s feet.

 

In whatever means necessary to achieve that, Joker would do it with a smile on his face.

 

It became the final deciding factor for the new role that the Joker had to take on to ensue that their dance could continue unperturbed. Without distractions or interference ever again. If his playmate wouldn’t take the necessary steps then Joker would be generous enough to help. He would doing anything for his Bat. Absolutely anything, if he was asked nicely enough.

 

_Psht, not like his only friend ever knew how to have a decent conversation that didn’t end with beautiful violence._

 

Not that Joker was complaining about a silly fun thing like that.

 

Joker stood in the spacious room as his laughter slowly died down until burst of snickers only remained. Lessening as time passed at a snail’s pace. His ruby colored lips splitting into a wide grin as acidic green orbs took in his gift for the Bat. Joker always had a certain knack for flare when it came down to his present giving skills for a certain special brooding Bat King. A role he took very seriously even if the thought of him taking anything serious at all was amusing to him. Most would just assume that the Clown Prince of Crime didn’t have much care in the world. Which was a falsehood. He cared about a great many things. A good joke, cotton candy, comedy, killing, oh how he loved murder like a fine wine, but the most important thing in his life was Batman.

 

Everything he ever did was for Batman’s best interest and that resonated even more so now with the current wave of circumstances.

 

“ _Heh,_ if only you _knew_ how much I would do for you, darling, if you just _accepted_ how much I care about you and this little game of ours.” Joker muttered to himself and the dead silence around him.

 

His purple suit was drenched crimson. Green bangs sticking to his chalk white skin. Where once there was bright color of his attire was now a glimmer of its former self. The suit would need to be discarded once he got back to his hideout. It would be way too much of a hassle attempting to clean off all the blood on him. A tiny part was saddened about that as he loved this suit, regardless, sacrifices needed to be made for his best pal in the whole wide world. Honestly, he out did himself with this display of love for his Bat, if he said so himself. Not that he believed for a second that his other half would appreciate it. Stubborn to the very end it would seem. Well, not if Joker had his way. Which he knew he would. After all, this only made his Bats job easier and even the sourpuss could appreciate a little breather now and again. Can’t make that a regular occurrence, he reminded himself. Wouldn’t want, Batsy to get lazy on him. That just wouldn’t be fun in the least. Now, all he had to make sure of was that his darling, would find his way here. Not that it was hard to accomplish. If Joker called then the Batman would always show, literally, in this case. He’d make a phone call. It wasn’t exactly his usual routine with getting the necessary attention of a certain vigilante with an annoying hero complex, but sometimes the simplest solution to a problem was the best one.

 

Joker snickered as he pulled out his phone from his coat pocket, grimacing only slightly when the screen was coated in the red slippery substance by the precious life supply stuck to his purple gloves. Now this was something, he’d have no choice, but to clean.

 

_Oh well, what can you do?_

 

 

This wouldn’t be the first time that he wished he had his playmates phone number and unconvinced that it would be the last. Honestly, it was a bit grating on his nerves how resistant Batman always was when the clown would ask for his number for they could keep in better contact with each other. A simple no would have sufficed instead of the place of the broken bones he always received for his inquiry. Either way as roundabout method he had to take it held a certain appeal to it. A source of amusement he never passed up. No matter how much the other man he was calling tried to prevent it; that never stopped the clown from having his fun. Joker would have preferred a different way of doing things. Something more flashy and with a big boom, now just wasn’t the time for that when subtlety was the better approach. This was only for the Bat after all, he couldn’t go showcasing this gift to all of Gotham. Suppressing a chuckle that wanted to escape him, he tapped the contact name and put the phone to his ear and waited.

 

 

 

\- - -

 

 

 

Gotham City Police Department had bleed into so much corruption that for the fifth time that night Jim Gordon had contemplated quitting being Commissioner all together. Throwing in the towel; perhaps, even leave this vile city once and for all. Once he could solemnly trust the other men who worked along side him to bring Gotham to a better state of peace. Where Gothamites would no longer need to fear for their lives whenever they adventured out of their homes. Now, not so much. He wasn’t naive enough to think that there wasn’t always the corrupted few that worked under the pretense of making this city safe. There had always been officers who would much rather make a quick buck for the mob than actually do their jobs. A battle that he had been fighting for years now to weed out the good officers from the bad. Gordon knew changing the GCPD for the better was a necessity before he could even pondered retiring.

 

When Batman had come into the picture and brought a surge of hope, Gordon held on to it like a life line when the doubt of if he was honestly accomplishing anything good in this city. For years the city did improve for the better. Of course, it wasn’t perfect; far from it. Criminals still appeared like ants and innocent lives were lost, but even he could see the improvements that took shape against all the filth. However, even a resemblance of peace could never last here. Gotham brought out the worse in people as if it was a drug that no rehabilitation could fix. Hope became a fleeting thought and left an inner turmoil inside him.

 

Taking out another cigarette from the pack in his brown coat, he lit it up and took a deep inhale. As unhealthy as the habit was it calmed his nerves and made it easier for him to focus. Which was extraordinarily difficult in this day and age. His tired eyes glanced at the broken Bat signal that once shone brightly for all of Gotham to see and for criminals to fear. Despair crept around his heart as the icy chill of the rain pelted down on him. Gordon had protested the Bat signal’s destruction, but was only met with threats of termination with his job. In the end the signal was destroyed and with it came the surge of crime all throughout the city. His hand rested on the insignia of the Bat and nostalgia fired inside his mind. What he wouldn’t give to turn on the signal once more and almost have a heart attack when the Batman would appear behind him to answer its beacon.

 

Those days were over now and Jim knew the safest place for the Dark Knight was as far away from the rooftops of GCPD as possible. Not that for an instant Batman didn’t risk his life in his fight against crime, however, this was different. Where once officers would welcome the vigilante’s presence now, most, would aim to kill for a reward money that would just bring out absolute mayhem in its wake. If Batman would ever perish, God help this City for no one could do what the Dark Knight did. Which wasn’t that the exact reason Batman appeared in the first place? To battle a war that no regular man could ever win. In the earlier days even Gordon himself didn’t realize how beneficial Batman was for Gotham’s survival. Countless times he tried to bring the man in by the book because laws needed to be followed. Justice shouldn’t be delivered by one person and he held onto that belief for the first few years. It took a while for the Dark Knight to earn his trust, earn his respect and when that happened a never breakable comradely was formed; washing away the distrust to the way side. A partnership built on mutual respect and a lifelong friendship that he held dearly to his heart.

 

Removing his hand from the signal and taking more inhale’s of his cigarette he looked over the skyline at Gotham below. Wondering if Batman was out there this very night; risking his life just to make sure someone wouldn’t succumb to a deadly fate. No matter how things may have changed, he wouldn’t doubt for a second that Batman was doing what he had always done. Being the hero this city desperately needed. The sound of his phone ringing startled him out of his musing. Sighing, he dropped his smoke and stomped it out with his shoe. When he answered the phone and the voice that haunted his every nightmare purred on the other line, his heart almost stopped beating.

 

“Heya, Jimbo! It’s been awhile! Have you missed me? I missed you and that wonderful mustache on that mug of yours, _hehe._ I need to warn you. Never shave it, you’d look downright awful without it. Just a bit of advice from Uncle J to his good friend the commish.” Joker giggled on the other line.

 

“Joker,” the name left his lips and felt like arsenic on his tongue.

 

Everything wrong with the world could be described by that name alone. Every nasty and despicable thing imaginable was tied to that name.

 

“How’s that sweet little daughter of yours? I’ve been meaning to come visit her. Bring her some pretty flowers. Who knows? Maybe, she’ll be so thrilled to receive them that it might help her gain the strength to walk again. _HA!”_ Joker burst into a fit of uncountable laughter, taking a few moments to calm down, before continuing, “What kind does she like, anyways? I’m torn between roses and sunflowers at the moment.”

 

Gordon saw red. His hand clenched the phone even tighter. Wanting to just hurl the damn thing to the street to shatter and with it no longer dealing with murderer as well. It wouldn’t help. Regardless, how tempting. Joker’s words were like a punch in the gut. Knocking the breath right out of him. All he could feel was deep rooted rage boiling in his veins. Flashes of horrible memories that were ingrained forever in his mind. He could still see the pictures of his exposed bleeding daughter. Could still hear the laughter around him whenever he looked at Barbara. His biggest failure to protect her from the psychopath an everyday reminder in his life. Many times before he wanted to exact the same torment that the maniac did to his family upon the Joker. Even now that dark urge never left the corners of his mind. If anyone deserved to suffer in this city than Joker was at the top of that list.

 

“Don’t you dare talk about my daughter! If you even think about going near her, God help me, I’ll-“ Gordon was cut off from his threat that probably would never come to fruition by the Joker interrupting him.

 

“Oh! _Relax. Relax. Relax._ Just lighten up! Get that stick out of your ass. Are you relaxed yet?” A grumble was his only response. “ _Huh._ Guess not. Don’tcha, fret, Jimbo, that gag has already ran its course. _Hehe._ What’s the point of repeating the same joke when it wouldn’t be as funny a second time around? Hmmm. I’d have to get new material before I even waste my time or comedy talent on that daughter of yours again.”

 

“Just get to the point. What do you want?” Gordon replied. He wanted the Joker as far away from any thought regarding his daughter as possible.

 

It seemed to work by the glint of amusement in the murderers tone.

 

“So nice of you to ask. There’s quite a lot I want. A whole list in fact. Are you going to be jolly ol’ Santa and bring me all the delightful goodies for being a good little clown?”  There was an under-layer of danger in the cheery tone. It was effortless to tell that Joker wanted something in particular from him. Not that Gordon was very inclined to do anything for the madman that didn’t involve locking him away and throwing the key away. For good.

 

Gordon scoffed. He had dealt with so much of Joker’s shit over the years and he wasn’t in the mood to handle it tonight. Not ever. Especially with how much has changed in Gotham the past several months. The last thing he needed was the Joker playing his sick games. This city was already reaching the breaking point. Figures, the maniac would resurface again at the worst possible time.

 

“I don’t have time for this,” his annoyance was clear in his tone which only caused Joker to fall back into his infamous laughter.

 

Joker seemed to only want to get under his skin. Which the maniac had no difficulty doing. Gordon could barely keep his temper in check each time that the Joker was involved. Each chance the clown got, he tried to push Gordon farther and farther off the edge.

 

“I’m hanging up.” said Gordon.

 

 _“Don’t.”_ All pretense of pleasantry was dropped with that one word. Joker wasn’t playing around anymore and that became painfully obvious. It was unsettling how quickly the clown’s personality could change on a drop of a hat.

 

“Then stop wasting both our times. I’m too busy to deal with you and frankly I don’t want to. So either spit it out or I’m hanging up. Enough with the games.” Gordon replied; sternly. Even if it wouldn’t have much effect on the psychopath.

 

Silence befell them for a short moment. For a second Gordon almost thought that the Joker had hung up on him. If he couldn’t hear the slight breathing on the other line to tell him otherwise. He wished the clown had, but Joker would never grant him that luxury.

 

“Ya know, Jimbo, you’re _adorable,_ in a way too serious kinda way,” Gordon grimaced at the fondness in the Joker’s voice. Making his stomach twist in knots. He didn’t get a chance to speak before the Joker continued, “makes sense that you would be, I suppose. Bat did create you after all. Heh. Hell, knows I wouldn’t have. You’re to much of a stick in the mud for my taste, but you do provide some amusing games. Wanna know a secret? _I betcha do._ You’re quality for hilarious entertainment is the only reason I’ve let my Bat keep you for so long. Honestly, I probably would have disposed of you years ago, otherwise.”

 

Gordon didn’t grace that comment with a response. Joker was by far too insane to ever realize the absurdity that came out his mouth. All he knew was he’d be needing another smoke once this phone call was over. Seemed like kicking the habit was not in the foreseeable future.

 

Silence never perturbed the Joker into ending his ramblings. He was pretty sure the clown could carry one-sided conversations for hours on end if he wanted to. However, the next sentence the maniac said made his skin crawl.

 

“Speaking of adorable things, have you kept in contact with, Batsy?” There was desperation in the clown’s voice that Gordon never heard before.

 

It shouldn’t have come as much of a surprise for him as it did that this conversation would turn to the topic of the protector of Gotham City. Everyone who had the unfortunate opportunity to meet the Clown Prince of Crime learned very quickly how obsessed with the Batman the Joker was. Years of bloodshed and lives lost were a testament to that fact. He and his own daughter had suffered because of that deranged obsession. When Batman was the topic of interest that’s when the Joker was at his most dangerous. Regardless, with the state of Gotham recently, he couldn’t help, but wonder how much the Joker actually knew. Most of the citizens of this city wasn’t even aware of what was going on behind the scenes, regarding Batman. Yet, Gordon felt positive if anyone did know it would be the Joker. Still it was better to tread things carefully.

 

“Does it really matter if I’ve spoken to him or not?” Gordon said; cautiously. A growl on the other line confirmed that, yes, it did in fact matter a great deal. At least to the Joker.

 

“ _Yes or No?_ Don’t play coy with me. I’m _not_ in the mood. I know that little signal of the Bats hasn’t been on for months, so answer the question!” the ire in the clown’s tone sent a shiver down Gordon’s spine.

 

“...Yes,” Gordon answered and instantly regretted the slight relief he felt when the tension dissipated with a low chuckle on the other line.

 

_Fuck, he really needed another smoke._

 

“Thought so,” Joker sighed, “I knew I could count on you.”

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He really didn’t want an answer to that question.

 

“I need ya to do a little tiny _favor_ for me, buddy ol’ pal.” Joker replied; smugness evident in his voice.

 

A beat.

 

“You’re out of your fucking mind if you think for one instant I would help you out with anything.” Gordon said; clear disbelief showing through his words.

 

Joker tsked, the sound chipping away more at Gordon’s thinning patience’s.

 

“ _No,_ see, that’s where you’re gravely mistaken, old friend. Because we both know that you’ll do what I ask.” Joker chided him as if he was speaking to a child.

 

“You’re delusional. The only thing I’d ever help you with is seeing you behind bars. I’m done with this conversation.” Gordon almost hung up, but was stopped by Joker’s words, yet again.

 

“Really? Is that so? Well, go ahead then, hang up. See what happens if you want to test me,” Joker waited for the click, but it never came. “ _Thatta, boy._ Look at you go! You’re actually learning. We both know the extents I will go to prove a point; _don’t we?_ _Heh_ , speaking of, have you decided to take my wonderful life advice and walk through the _emergency exit_ , yet? I mean, your life can’t be all that great with everything that’s going on these days. Might do you some good to dabble with that sweet, sweet insanity.”

 

Gordon kept quiet and ignored him, which finally brought Joker to the real reason why he called in the first place.

 

“Anyways, all I need ya to do is make a call to my _darling, little, Bat._ It’s really quite simple. No hassle at all. Think you can _accomplish_ that much, pal?” Joker purred out the word Bat in an affectionate way.

 

That caught Gordon’s attention. It was such an odd request that it left him aghast. He wasn’t even sure he heard the Joker right the first time.

 

“What?” He couldn’t stop himself from asking.

 

“Are ya going deaf in your old age? Ugh. Fine. I’ll say it one more time. I want you to give, Batsy a call for me.” Joker’s tone was laced with impatience.

 

Apparently, the Joker was being serious. Which only brought many more unanswered questions to the forefront of his mind.

 

“Why do you even _need_ my help with that? You haven’t had _difficulty_ in the past getting Batman’s attention.” Gordon spoke more to himself than to the madman.

 

Joker let out a deep laugh at that. Sounding much to bitter than what he was used to hearing. Seems like he had struck a nerve with the maniac. One he didn’t even know was there. Joker hadn’t been seen for months since his escape from Arkham Asylum and Gordon was starting to question if there was more to the story than he would ever know. The few times he was able to go unnoticed and speak with Batman, the other seemed to distance himself from the topic of the Joker all together. His instincts told him that there was pieces to the puzzle that he was missing, but he knew neither the Bat nor the Clown would offer up the revelation; willingly. At the same time as curious as he was, he wouldn’t press the issues. The farther he stayed away from it the better it was for his own sanity. Batman could handle the Joker, he always did.

 

“Well, I could get dear batty boys attention in my _usual_ way, but I think you wouldn’t _approve_ of that one bit. Jimbo, you might as well make your life easier this one _chance_ you have to do so.” Joker persuaded.

 

Gordon did not feel comfortable giving in to the Joker’s request. It went against everything he stood for. Still, he trusted Batman to be able to handle himself. If anyone could take the Joker down it was the Dark Knight. It was more preferable than having innocent people get caught in the cross fire between those two men. He didn’t know what the Joker was planning. Regardless, whatever it was, Batman would be there to stop him. Some things never change.

 

“Fine, I’ll do it. Only because it will be satisfying to see you off the streets and locked up where you belong.” Gordon responded as he took another cigarette from his coat pocket. Knowing tonight, he wouldn’t get any restful sleep.

 

“ _Heh, Good,_ now listen up. I won’t be repeating myself and if you mess this up, what can I say other than just don’t mess this up.”

 

 

 

 

 

\- - -

 

 

 

If anyone walking the streets of Gotham City decided to look up that night then they may have caught a glimpse of their protector going from roof top to roof top. Despite, this fact, everyone just continued with their nightly activities. Oblivious to anything that didn’t concern them directly. Ignorance was truly bliss at times. Bruce, however, wasn’t so fortunate. His city had changed all around him in such a short amount of time. In fact everything he thought he knew was turned on it’s head and thrown threw an insane loop it was hard to keep anything straight. Everything happened so quick like a gun firing in an alleyway. The worse part was this time that bullet had been aimed at him. Hitting its mark and he was sometimes unconvinced that he had managed to survive. That he was still alive and breathing. Able to continue his crusade for Justice.

 

By all accounts, Batman should be dead. The cards had been stacked against him and by the time he even noticed he had the loosing hand, it was far to late. Or should have been. Every deck of cards had a wild card. One that’s unpredictability could change the whole game.

 

_The Joker card._

 

Which apparently, had been on his side when all hope seemed lost.

 

An irony that wasn’t lost on him in the worse possible way.

 

Bruce should have died six months ago. It was a thought that wouldn’t leave his mind in the months that followed. There was no fathomable reason for him not to be. It didn’t make sense. Batman fell into a trap that he didn’t predict, one that he didn’t have a way out of. Bruce would have perished in that alleyway. Bleeding out just like his parents had. It would have been almost poetic irony if he thought long and hard on it.

 

He hadn’t died, in fact, he had been saved. By the worse man that Gotham has ever seen and will probably ever experience again. If anyone had foretold him that one day the Joker of all people would have saved his life then he was positive he would have needed to have that persons sanity evaluated. It just wasn’t in the realm of possibilities and regardless, that’s exactly what had happened.

 

_How was he still breathing?_

_Why wasn’t Batman rotting in the ground by now?_

_Why did Joker do what he did?_

 

For three full weeks the Joker had attended to his wounds in the abandoned comedy club hide-out of his. Bruce couldn’t recall when the clown had found him. All he remembered was waking up to that infamous grin looking down on him. Seeing those poisonous acidic green orbs he knew so well. Pupils that only ever expanded when they gazed at the Dark Knight. He wouldn’t state it out loud, but in that moment it was the most terrified he had ever been in his life. Alone and vulnerable at the Joker of all people’s mercy. A murderer who treated death as a punchline. Where no shred of empathy would ever be found. Despite, this, Batman had received Joker’s only form of mercy that could ever be offered from the likes of him. The oxygen that filled his lungs even now was a testament to that fact.

 

The experience wasn’t exactly any less volatile than usual. Joker was prone to mood swings and constantly lashed out at the injured Batman when pushed a little too far. Regardless, Bruce knew the clown held back. Noticed, how the unrelenting murderer would avert his gaze each time that he acted out in anger. Neither at the time trusted the other to not result to violence when it came to each other. It was their routine that had been established for years now. A familiarity they clung to when everything else was changing for the both of them. Near the end, before Batman escaped -if he could even call it that as Joker did nothing to prevent him from leaving- in fact it seemed that the clown wanted him gone, a peculiar shift came over them. Hardly, even noticeable, but more significant than anything else could ever be. Batman and the Joker had started to get along with each other’s company.

 

Which was a terrifying new concept that Bruce wasn’t sure he could accept, just yet. Self-denial felt far more like a security measure than accepting a new reality between them.

 

If he allowed himself for one second to think that anything could change than hope would start to fester in his heart. Which, Bruce had learned all too well that anything positive would just be blown out like a candle when it came to the Joker.

 

It’s been months now since that time stamp on his life and memories happened. Distractions from dwelling on the madman were made easily available to Batman. A new threat in his city that had to be dealt with. Which, sadly he wasn’t even close to accomplishing. A specific danger that was only posed towards himself and the major criminals this city produced. The majority of the populace in his city was mildly aware of what was taking place. Their only real signs to any sort of accumulating knowledge would be that his signal no longer appeared in the sky. Batman, however, had been made painfully made aware of everything. A new protocol had been issued throughout the city.

 

_Kill the Batman and kill all of Gotham’s major criminals._

 

A special task force -more militia- simply called Midnight (the name wasn’t subtle with its meaning, Bats were nocturnal after all, what better time to hunt him down than when night fell?), was put into effect by the new mayor Quincy Sharp and unknown correspondents. Which they were more than adept at carrying out their orders to nerve wracking degrees. Most of the villains that Batman faced went into hiding when the new group made their presence known. Others, weren’t so lucky. Even the GCPD was no longer a safe haven when the few that had tried to seek protection there. The reports being falsified that criminals were either sent to Blackgate or Arkham Asylum when the truth was far grimmer. Everything was being kept in the dark and it wasn’t until he dealt with this new group himself that he learned what was really going on.

 

_Again, Batman should have been dead._

 

Selina Kyle, was one of the fist causalities that Batman had been made aware of. Knowledge that the Joker gleefully informed him which resulted in a broken nose for the grinning clown. She had been shot down in her apartment and the crime scene left to look like a burglary gone wrong. It was a sick joke -Joker’s words- and a mockery for the life that Catwoman lived. The pain of her loss had never subsided even to this very night within him. Bruce could never forgive himself for not being there to protect her. Angry at himself for not saving her. For not figuring out about the threat in time to prevent it. All he could do was make sure that her death wasn’t in vain and that she’d get the justice that was owed to her.

 

The list of names of people who were lost had continued to grow over the long months. Each name pushing the Dark Knight deeper and deeper off the edge. If this continued; he wasn’t even sure if he could stop himself from seeking vengeance over justice.

 

No one in Gotham City had been prepared.

 

_Well, except one person._

 

 

Joker on the other hand, seemed to know when all this started if those three weeks spent listening to him were any indication. The clown didn’t really discuss it all in great detail; much to Batman’s aggravation. All that was really said was that the clown knew when it was time to split before his own life was offered on a silver platter. If anyone would survive when this was all over, Bruce would gamble his entire fortune that it would be the Joker.

 

Joker was nothing, but, resilient and Bruce truly believed if the maniac was ever going to die it would be only because he broke his one rule. Something he had no intention of ever doing. So, Joker would continue to live and thrive, no matter what this city had to say about the matter. The clown would simply laugh in its face and carry on like he always did.

 

For the time being that’s exactly what Batman was allowing the Joker to do.

 

There were more important concerns to focus his attention on than one psychopath; no matter how dangerous that said psychopath was to everyone.

 

Not that the Joker even showed himself and was more off the radar to everyone right now; including Batman.

 

Now, a-days he spent all his time trying to gather as much information as he could to bring this Midnight militia group and the mayor to justice for their crimes. So, far it all had been futile, but one thing could be said about the Dark Knight, he was more than just determined. Alfred had been adamantly against him going out each night after the distress call Bruce made when he left the Joker’s hideout. He couldn’t blame his father’s figure concerns, but as long as people, no matter how awful, were being executed in cold blood, Bruce couldn’t stand idle and do nothing. It went against every instinct he had developed over the years. People were counting on him to keep them safe. No one else would bother to risk their life night after night to save even the worse that Gotham had to offer.

 

There were plenty of close calls that he narrowly escaped the past few months. This time, though, Batman had been ready for them. He even had taken down a few of their hidden bases of operation. Batman didn’t allow room for error, because if he did, Joker might not be there this time to prevent his death. It was unsettling how he could even have that train of thought. Joker being related anything to safety should never even be considered. Like always, he allowed self-denial to kick in and keep his mind as far away from the glimmering hope as possible.

 

_Until, Gordon called him an hours ago that is._

 

That’s when everything relating to the Joker came back at full force and hit him like a train wreck. Feeling as if a knife went straight into his heart. Bringing back all the uncertainty that he tried to keep away as much as possible or else it would overcome him. As blue eyes gazed over the familiar comedy club that plagued his existence for three weeks; he felt like a coward. Every impulse told him to run as far away from the building as possible. To avoid the Joker all together. He didn’t even know if the maniac was in the comedy club, but he didn’t want to find out. All the self-denial that had been keeping him afloat was being pulled away from him. Leaving him exposed and vulnerable to the one thing he didn’t want to feel. Hope. Deep down inside he was foolishly gripping onto the idea that things between him and the Joker had actually changed. That their games with each other that only left bodies that could line all of Gotham’s streets might finally come to an end. Perhaps, they didn’t need to have everything end with one of them dying.

 

Joker seemed to have other set of priorities than quitting their games for their own sake. It would be so easy to just grapple away and ignore whatever Joker had planned for him. Batman didn’t have time to deal with the clown and the worse part even if he did; he wasn’t even sure what to do with him afterwards. However, ignoring the Joker was never a good idea; especially for Batman. The rare instances that he tried to do so only enraged the lunatic and almost cost him his life. Not counting how many innocents had suffered for Batman’s neglect for the Joker’s need for attention. Bruce couldn’t have a repeat of those times ever again. Joker would no doubt prove more dangerous for Gotham than the militia group could ever hope to be if he recoiled from the madman now.

 

Closing his eyes; he tried to steady himself. He needed to be prepared if the Joker was continuing their dance.

 

Bruce knew he was stalling for time. Trying to find any reason he could not to enter the building. There were plenty, but weren’t worth the consequences that would surely follow that course of action.

 

Regardless, he hesitated, as he had been doing so for close to twenty minutes now.

 

Being proven right didn’t feel worth it. There would be no satisfaction to be found if he was. Batman didn’t want to be right this time. He wanted to be able to hold on to hope when everything was falling apart.

 

 Desperately wanting not to go back to a cycle that was destroying him little by little each time it repeated. Pushing him further to his breaking point every single time.

 

With a heavy heart and locking away any shimmering desires to be optimistic in his mind; he made his decision. Not that he would ever have a choice when the Joker was involved. The clown would always come first in Batman’s life. One way or another. Blue eyes opened and he glided down to enter the building that had been his safe place for three weeks when he needed it to regain his strength. A place where he had been the closest to the Joker than he had ever been before. Where he was allowed to get glimpses of something better. An abandon comedy club that offered signs of a future that he knew would never come to be.

_Figures, when the Joker blew out the candle that the maniac would choose to do it here._

_Symbolism that even Batman had to acknowledge was tragic._

 

The sight of Batman’s gift -as Gordon explained that the Joker had declared this to be for Batman coming here in the first place- that greeted him was as disturbing as he had come to expect from the maniac. Regardless, it didn’t quench the nausea from creeping in on him. Batman had received many presents from the Joker over the years. All of them deranged. Each one meant to get under his skin and push him towards the clown’s goal of having Batman break his one rule. This time although similar; felt entirely different. Where there was carnage to be found; there was also something else. Both infuriating and paralyzing dreadful. No one else would have been able to interpret the meaning behind this and even if he couldn’t clarify with a hundred percent certainty; deep down he knew what this was about. A realization that turned his heart to ice. 

 

 

On one of the purple colored walls (Bruce was certain Joker had them repainted to his liking) was severed heads all grinning widely in death at him and other various body parts all nailed to the wall in the formation of a Bat. A horrific taunt, but also a deadly promise. One that Bruce didn’t want to be kept. Joker was far from finished with their games, but the rules had changed. Nothing could stay the same or last forever. These weren’t innocent victims that the Joker killed to mock the Bats ideology. This wasn’t an invitation for a night of games; even if it could turn into just that. If they had been then Bruce wouldn’t be feeling the trepidation eating away at him by the second. Wouldn’t feel the temptation to run back to his cave and not resurface as Batman ever again. 

 

_No._

 

They each were members of the militia group terrorizing their city. Newbies, which had nearly done the impossible and almost killed the Batman if it wasn’t for the prevention of the Joker. A common enemy to them both. But one, Joker wouldn’t show an ounce of mercy to. Gotham City would burn before the clown was finished seeking his revenge. Nothing would get in the Joker’s way. The unstoppable force that was out for blood. Only one man could do anything about this and all the warnings were there from the clown that Batman shouldn’t get involved. Joker was offering him an easy way out. A single chance to avoid what was the inevitable. It wasn’t an everyday occurrence in Bruce’s life and an offer he would have to refuse. Joker wouldn’t be too pleased if Batman continued his crusade to bring the militia group down. For the psychopath had now made that his goal. Regardless, he also knew that the clown would welcome him with a grin to this game as well. A contradiction that was exactly like the Joker.

 

In the end the Joker would always be his responsibility and his alone. There were too many variables that could go wrong if the madman was allowed to run wild with his plans. One such outcome almost sent the Dark Knight spiraling down a train of thought he couldn’t bear to contemplate. Refused to. Yet, once he did; there was no going back. Bruce wasn’t afraid of innocent lives being killed this time. Hell, he hardly even gave a single concern to the militia group members own survival. Joker could probably slaughter them all and Bruce would barely lose an ounce of sleep over it. Even if he loathed to admit it.

_Only one life that could be snuffed out crossed his mind._

_Joker could die._

_Batman almost did._

_He shouldn’t even still be alive._

 

Every logical part of his mindset told him that it would be the most likely outcome if he didn’t do everything in his power to find the Joker and fast. When earlier he wanted to prevent seeing the clown again; now all he wanted was the Joker in his sights. Where he knew he was safe. Where finding his body in some alleyway wouldn’t ever become a reality. Bruce may have spent three full weeks in Joker’s company, but right then and there he felt he knew how the madman felt better than that entire time. How what could be interpreted as violent mood swings, suddenly, held more weight in their meaning. Joker had found Batman; nearly dead and with that something was changing inside the maniac. A desire to prevent that from happening ever again. Because in that moment, Bruce knew that same dread. How all overwhelmingly consuming it could feel to acknowledge how everything the two of them knew could dissipate in a single instant.

 

_Batman did not want the Joker to die._

 

With that realization it just opened the flood gates to everything that he never wanted to grace with a description. Self-imposed denial couldn’t protect him this time. His chest felt tight and he could barely even breathe. Fist clenched at his sides as he tried to remember all the hide outs over the years that Joker had taken residence in. The clock was ticking down and he cursed the clown for not giving him more of a lead to finding him. Gotham City was a huge place and the Joker was only ever found when he wanted to be. A constant fact that the only reason he ever apprehended the clown the times that he did was because Joker wanted to play with him. He couldn’t rely on that this time. Couldn’t trust that Joker would make his whereabouts known to him before it was too late.

 

Batman had been too late to save so many lives these last seven months. He couldn’t allow himself to fail again. Not this time. Not when the stakes were this high. Not when the Joker’s life was on the very line.

 

_He didn’t have a winning hand this go around._

_No, Joker card to change the game in his favor._

_Bruce was on his own._

 

It wouldn’t make him throw in the towel and let events unfold to their natural outcome. Wouldn’t let himself be discouraged from finding the Joker. He knew this city as well as the clown did. Joker referred to Gotham City as the Batman’s dark kingdom so many times. Batman was the unmovable object and he wouldn’t stray from his two main mission, now. Finding the Joker and taking down the militia. With a set plan in place the anxiety was pushed away to the back of his mind.

 

He allowed himself a few minutes of self-indulgence; to just stand there. To remanence of the time that he had spent in this place with the Joker. Even if he wanted to state he hated every single second being stuck around his greatest enemy; he knew he would only be lying to himself. There were small fleeting moments where the maniac had almost gotten a laugh out of him. Card tricks that weren’t turned into deadly weapons, but used for showmanship and to impress Batman. Joker’s acidic green eyes beaming with pride when the Dark Knight admitted that the clown had skill. Even down to a ridiculous chess match between the two of them where he wasn’t surprised to be denied the black pieces. The clown had told him that as long as he was under his roof then the Bat wouldn’t be allowed anything dark and gloomy. A small smirk formed on his lips at the thought of the sheer absurdity those three weeks had been.

 

Another part of him was resentful that Joker would taint those times of contentment that they rarely had with each other by this sick display. Bruce wanted the familiarity of breaking the clown’s bones for the sick joke that this place held any real meaning between them. Which is most likely the exact reason Joker chose his gift and message to be here instead of anywhere else in Gotham. Life was a joke to the maniac. A depressing reality that needed to be laughed away at; in the clown’s mind. Joker always said how there was no real meaning in the world; even if his actions regarding Batman proved otherwise. Sentimentality wasn’t a concept the Joker was familiar with. He didn’t hold much things in high regard and anything that he did was only because it brought him amusement.

 

Joker had to have seen the grinds turning in Bruce’s mind those last few days. The start of a glimmer of hope. If anyone could read the Dark Knight, it would have been the clown. In Joker-like fashion he needed to destroy it. To bring the Batman farther down on his level. Joker hated change. It was one of the few things that the madman had been sincerely honest about with Batman during their time together. The murderer may have thrived with chaos, but he couldn’t handle his reality changing or crumbling apart at the seams. He was a creature of impulse and habit. When the world had shifted on them both, it disturbed the Joker more than he had liked to admit. Yet, Bruce had observed just that. Had seen the desperation in those green orbs to keep the Bat with him, but also the conflicting emotions that would come forth if he did. That would have ruined their dance. Something, Joker would never allow to happen.

 

So, Joker did what he always had done; he avoided the issue all together -something Bruce begrudgingly admitted that they had in common- and left for hours on the last day of the Bats stay. It was the nicest way the clown could basically say get the fuck out. Right now, he wondered what would have happened if he didn’t take that chance to escape and actually stayed. How would the Joker have reacted? Probably, not well. At the same time leaving then now felt like a mistake. If he stayed then there might have been a small chance that everything would be different now. That the game could have had a different ending then the one it’s set on course for. A realization that Bruce was now more determined to rectify the next time he found the Joker. Perhaps, there might still be time to fix everything.

 

Bruce took one last glance around the room. His blue gaze stopping at the disturbing scene on the wall.

 

Written in blood within the Bat symbol, was three words that’s meaning only the two of them could understand. A single reminder of the past where Batman had only saved the Joker’s life at the last possible second. A foreshadowing for everything to come.

 

**_Justice. Just Us_ **

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

The resonating sounds of chirps from bats overhead in the Bat-cave indicated Bruce’s arrival. Exhaustion was slowly making its presence known in his bones. Honestly, he just wanted to head upstairs into the Manor, go to his room and crawl into bed. Despite this, he knew even if he tried that he wouldn’t get a wink of sleep today. Or for the next several. His mind was too focused on the task at hand. Bruce needed to find the Joker. Which he had only one possible lead and it was going to be the most grating experience; he was positive. Going over to the Bat-computer he took a seat and let out a heavy sigh.

 

There was no guarantee this plan was going to work and the outcome of it actually succeeding was slim to none. Regardless, he knew he had to at least attempt it. If he didn’t at least try then he would never be able to distance himself from the guilt; if everything fell apart. Before, Batman ended his night on the streets he had been fortunate enough to get a secret meeting with Jim Gordon. The stealth and daggers aspect of any interaction the two men had these days always left Bruce in a desolate state of mind. Detesting, how much of a risk it was to not only Gordon’s job as Commissioner, but his life as well, made Batman keep as much of a distance as he could from his old friend.

 

Sometimes meeting with the other man couldn’t be avoided, regardless of the risks. Gordon was one of the few allies Batman even had left in a city so hell bent to end his life. As abysmal as the real reason he even took on that gamble tonight was; Bruce wouldn’t have hesitated to do it all over again. No matter what directions his actions seemed to differ all roads always lead back to the Clown Prince of Crime. Others in his life had made fact-based assertions that when it came down to anything regarding the Joker that’s when Batman was at his most efficient. An obsession that was so deeply rooted within him that he would never concede to being accurate. Dwelling on any sort of bond or connection that might be present in his consciousness with the Joker would be a futile endeavor.

 

The only admittance on that regard as of now was that he did not want the Joker to die in a war that was never the Clown Prince’s to fight. When it came to taking down the militia group the farther away from the conflict the maniac was the better for all involved. Convincing the Joker that notion in itself would be a very tedious endeavor. Most likely an impossibility. Nonetheless all he really truly needed to do was apprehend the maniac and make sure that he couldn’t escape. How he was going to accomplish just that would be a burden that he’d focus on once he found the Joker’s whereabouts. 

 

Many years ago, Bruce had a containment cell built in the Bat-cave; with the Joker specifically in mind. It was a decision acted out in desperation. A need for reassurance of options he allowed himself to indulge in. When it was all said and done; he never used it. A part of his mind resented the idea of taking prisoners under his supervision. No matter how dangerous to his city they were. It felt to inhumane and didn’t follow how Batman chose to handle things. At the end of the day; Joker was sick. He couldn’t put full blame on the maniac for his actions. Even if he wanted to. No, the blame always fell on himself. If Batman had managed to prevent the unknown man’s fall into a vat of chemicals then the Joker would have never surfaced in Gotham. As well, Batman would be dead today if that significant event in their history never happened. Not something he freely wanted to admit, but couldn’t deny.

 

 _Now,_ Bruce may have to act on that very regret of building the containment cell to keep the Joker alive if all else failed. He didn’t want to, but he would if the need arose.

 

Bruce typed away at the Bat-computer. Setting up the tracker to hopefully get a GPS read on the phone Joker was using. If the clown didn’t dispose of it; already. Which would most likely be the case. The self-doubt crept into his mind. This was his only lead and he needed it to work. If it didn’t then he’d be back at square one and no closer to keeping the one man in Gotham alive that he never thought he’d put this much effort to do so. Best not to dwell on that. He couldn’t let the guilt of his actions now eat away at him. Couldn’t afford to doubt himself. Protecting the Joker felt wrong. It felt like a condemnable sin that would taint him forever. It’s not like he hasn’t saved Joker’s life in the past, but those times were in the midst of their fights or other situation Joker found himself in that Batman stumbled upon. This time was different. This time he was going out of his way to protect the madman who plagued his city for years and brought countless deaths in the process.

 

Joker’s one offer to back out was becoming even more tempting, but Bruce could never follow through on it.

 

Honestly, Bruce had been astounded that the Joker didn’t have the number blocked when he called Gordon. It felt too much like a careless mistake that the clown wouldn’t easily make. Perhaps, he wanted Batman to track him down. It wouldn’t be the first time and no doubt the last. Joker many times in the past had given Batman just enough hints or flat out information to find him. A routine that was always constant.

 

_Until now._

 

The warning Joker gave told him that much.

 

So, that slip up may have not been meant for him at all. Most likely wasn’t in fact. Batman wasn’t the only person in Gotham City that the Joker liked to mess and play with. Gordon was a close second on that list. Joker had often times went out of his way to hurt Gordon in any way he could. It was entirely possible that’s what the Joker was aiming for now. Again, he wouldn’t put it past him.

 

 

Bruce made sure that the call he was making would be linked to Gordon’s own cellphone number. Not to give the Joker any indication that it was anyone else. If Joker wanted to get under Gordon’s skin like he thought then Batman was going to use that as an advantage. He also, made sure the call to be heard through his ear comm alone; just in case Alfred came down into the cave for he wouldn’t hear the conversation. After a slight moment of hesitation to gain his bearings and willpower to follow through with this insane plan; he activated the computer to call the Joker and waited.

 

_Ring._

 

And waited.

 

_Ring._

 

Bruce kept waiting.

 

_Ring._

 

Anxiety gripping around his heart with each second that passed.

 

_Ring._

 

Bruce could still back out. He didn’t need to do this. He shouldn’t be doing this. This was the _worst_ possible idea he has ever come up with.

 

_Ring._

 

_What the fuck was he doing with his life?_

 

There’s no possible way imaginable that this could end well.

 

_Ring._

 

Maybe, the Joker won’t answer. Wouldn’t that be the better outcome? No. He needed to find the Joker. Needed to talk to him. To keep him from doing something that neither of them could come back from. This was the best chance he had at accomplishing that. He needed to take it.

 

_Ring._

 

Joker wasn’t going to answer. It was naive of him to ever think that he would. Of course, the phone would have been discarded the second the clown didn’t need it anymore. All of this was just futile. Bruce wasn’t sure if he should find that as good news or bad.

 

On the last possible ring, Joker answered and his voice made Bruce lose his breath. It’s been six months since he last heard the Joker speak. Six months where so much has changed. It was too overwhelming. He wasn’t prepared for this at all. All Bruce wanted to do was hang up. To avoid this conversation all together. This wasn’t going to work. He needed it to work.

 

“Jimbo! What a surprise! Did ya miss me already? _How adorable. No. wait!_ Don’t tell me! I know why you called back! You finally figured out which _flowers_ I should get your little tyke Barbara right? _Oh!_ I’m sorry to tell ya, but I decided on the sunflowers.” Joker giggled, loudly on the other line.

 

It took less than twenty seconds for the Joker to unknowingly get under Batman’s skin. A new record for the psychopath and the worse part was that the clown wasn’t even really trying. Didn’t even know as of yet that he was speaking to Batman at all. Sure, his taunts were meant to hurt Gordon, however, it had the same effect on Bruce as well. Bruce absolutely despised it whenever Joker brought Barbara Gordon up in conversation. What he did to her was horrendous. It was a night that Bruce would never forget. It was also the only time the Joker had ever heard Batman laugh. A time so long ago that Batman had offered to help rehabilitate the maniac; just to be turned down. Bruce couldn’t prevent the growl that left him at hearing the Joker’s taunts and memories that washed over him.

 

All that growl had accomplished was letting the Joker know exactly who was on the phone without needing to say it out loud.

 

A sharp inhale of breath was heard on the other line. As if time had stopped for the Joker. Which perhaps it had for the murderer. This was the first time that Batman had ever called the clown. The first and most notably the last; he hoped would be the case.

 

 _“Batsy?”_ It wasn’t stated like a question, but the disbelief was evident in his tone.

 

Bruce closed his eyes and took a deep breath; preparing himself for what was to come. For how this conversation might go. Because, it really could go any way and he couldn’t predict the outcome even if his life depended on it. This time it wasn’t his life on the line. Now he was trying to prevent a foreseeable future without the Clown Prince of Crime in it. One he never thought he’d try to prevent. Regardless, Joker’s life laid in the balance. That thought alone gave him the resolve to push through any self-doubts. Opening his eyes he glanced at the computer; before responding.

 

“It’s _me,_ Joker.” said Bruce.

 

Silence greeted him as a response for what felt like an eternity. It was comforting in a small way. Allowing him to have a chance to fight back the growing anxiety. Blue eyes stared at the screen, narrowing when it was becoming painfully obvious how difficult it was looking for his tech to get a single read on the madman’s location. The signal bouncing from one place to another rapidly. There was no shock that came forth that the Joker would have been prepared to prevent any traces of his whereabouts being found. Only a surge of frustration consuming him. Of course, this wouldn’t have been an uncomplicated task. Nothing with the Joker was ever so straightforward. His irritation at this realization nearly made him miss the Joker’s response, but he had heard it and when he did it knocked the breath right out of his lungs.

 

 

“Am I _dead,_ Bats?” said Joker; way to seriously for comfort.

 

It should have been a joke. Bruce wanted that to be the case. It would have been so much easier to handle if it was. Regardless, Joker’s tone proved otherwise. The sincerity of the question sent a stabbing sensation straight into his heart. His hands clenched the armrests of the chair he sat on. A frown ever present on his face; even if Joker wasn’t around to see. A lump formed in his throat that he had to swallow down. A simple reminder of why he was even bothering in the first place. He gritted his teeth; trying to keep his temper under lock and key. Bruce knew he shouldn’t be letting such an absurd question haunt his thoughts as much as he was letting it. Though, that didn’t change the fact that it did.

 

Batman did not want the Joker to die and there was no possible way he could ever disclose that type of condemning information to the psychopath on the other line.

 

Doing so would just open to many doors and have consequences that were terrifying to ponder.

 

_Joker could never know._

 

Would never find out; if Batman could prevent it.

 

“What would give you that impression?” Bruce kept his voice as steady as he could. Devoid of any emotion. A skill he had implemented countless times, no matter how much turmoil he was experiencing.

 

Fortunately, for him the Joker didn’t pick up on his darker thoughts going around in Bruce’s head.

 

At least if he did; Joker didn’t mention them.

 

“Oh! I don’t know! Maybe, just, maybe, Bat, it’s because after all these years of me telling you how you never call and never write. I was starting to think you didn’t actually care for me as much as I thought you did,” Joker’s tone became as sharp as a knife the longer he talked. Dripping in venom for a few fleeting seconds before turning fonder when he continued, “But, that’s just ludicrous; isn’t it?” Joker chuckled. “I mean. Here you are. Ringing up. Your bestie. I knew you missed me.”

 

That comment only made Bruce roll his eyes. The sheer absurdity of it all was just aggravating.

 

“We need to talk.” Bruce replied; sternly.

 

Batman couldn’t see the Joker, but he could easily picture those toxic green eyes rolling just by the dripping sarcasm with Joker’s response.

 

“We are talking, or haven’t you noticed? Even if you have the worse conversational skills in the world. Really, darling. You need to work on that.”

 

“I meant talk in person.” However, his declaration went unheard by the shout that came from the Clown Prince.

 

Bruce wasn’t able to prevent the involuntary wince when his ears hurt from the volume alone. He didn’t voice his discomfort or tell the Joker to keep his voice down as he got distracted listening in on the madman’s other conversation that followed.

 

 

“What?!? Can’t you see I’m on the phone?” Joker had snapped and it didn’t take Bruce long at all to find out who the clown was talking to.

 

 

“Who are you talking to Mistah J?” Harley’s shrill voice could be heard in the background.

 

There was an audible groan from the Joker that Bruce was positive that Harley had missed completely. Which never ended well for the woman when she didn’t pick up on the Joker’s souring mood before it was too late to turn back. Someday, he hoped that she would finally break free of the Joker’s control of her. He did not want to find her body one day, because the murderer finally got bored of keeping her around. Bruce knew why the Joker kept her by his side. It was a testament of how much he could twist a person into his own liking. A tale of warning for all that the Joker was not a mind to be underestimated with.

 

Regardless, there were glimmer of hope for Harley’s future away from the Joker. A chance of a better life if only she grabbed on to it. Fleeting moments where she stayed with Poison Ivy instead when Joker’s abuse of her got too bad for her to handle. Bruce may have not much enjoyed when the two women teamed up together as they were a dangerous pair, but even he wouldn’t deny the affect Ivy had on Harley Quinn. Where Harley seemed to have more confidence in herself and didn’t let the Joker get to her as badly as before. Joker hated Poison Ivy with a passion because he thought, she always ruined what he found to be one of his favorite toys. Not that any of them truly took his feelings into account when Harley was involved. So, yes there was a shred of hope. How if anyone could one day break the cycle of abuse that Harley suffered Pamela would be the one to do just that. It was one of the reasons Batman left the two women alone unless he was prompted to intervene in their crimes.

 

“None of your business. _Go away,_ I’m busy.” said Joker; leaving no room for argument, but went unnoticed yet again.

 

“ _Wait._ Are you talking to B-man?” Harley’s voice resonated clearer for Bruce to hear, which meant she must have moved closer to the Joker during their conversation.

 

Joker hesitated with answering. Seemingly to contemplate being truthful or flat out lying; which Joker being the pathological liar that he was known for went with the latter of the two options.

 

 _“No...”_ The lie was so utterly obvious that even Bruce was disappointed in the Joker’s for his lack of deceit.

 

An annoying reasoning in the back of his mind told him that it was his own fault that the Joker wasn’t on the same caliber of his usual self with deception. That Batman calling the Joker in the first place had thrown the madman for a loop and in doing so made it more difficult for the clown the keep his focus.

 

Which was only proven accurate by the astounded gasp that left Harley. She may have always hung on every word the Joker said and usually believed him wholeheartedly to maddening degrees, but in this particular instance even she could interpret the obvious fallacy being presented to her by the madman.

 

“Oh my God! You are; _aren’t you?_ I was just guessing.” Her laughter at this realization grated on both the Joker’s and Batman’s nerves. 

 

 _“Harley...”_ Joker was without a doubt; losing his patience. The warning was as clear as day, but went completely ignored by the woman it was directed at.

 

“I wanna say hi!” Her tone was beaming on giddy and Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose; shaking his head in exasperation. Knowing full well what was going to follow suit between the two lunatics and he was powerless to be nothing, but a voyeur to what was about to take place.

 

Bruce could attempt to interrupt on his side of the phone call, regardless, it would not accomplish a single thing.

 

_Sometimes, he just had to let things run its course._

_No matter how frustrating it was for him to bear._

 

“Not right now! The grownups are talking!” Joker growled out; causing Bruce another wince from how loud the madman snapped out his words.

 

_Would it kill the other man to keep his voice down just for once?_

_Probably._

 

Joker wasn’t known for his inside voice most of the time. The madman always wanted to be the center of attention.

 

An all too familiar need powerfully flared up inside him to punch that chalk white face of the grinning jester if he could just to get him to shut up. Not that it ever worked. Joker was known for his high pain tolerance and welcomed pain like drinking a fine wine. He embraced any brutality that Batman could offer up with a smile on his countenance and that never ending infamous laughter that would haunt people’s nightmares for years to come if they ever heard it.

 

Bruce was positive that many times he had hit the Joker hard enough to kill any other man and still the clown always laughed it off like it was nothing. Always encouraging Batman to act out even more violence with his temper. Beating the clown to unconsciousness was the only effective way at getting the Joker to stop his insistent laughter. It wasn’t a pleasant thought how satisfying those moments were where Batman could let go of some of his restraint with subduing the maniac without the nagging fear that he was going too far. Joker deserved the worse treatment he always received. Even it always made Bruce sick to his stomach how much the Joker enjoyed the pain that was inflicted on him. Only when Batman was dishing it out, though. If it was anyone else the madman didn’t tolerate it as well. True, he would laugh and grin, but the murderous intent would radiate off of him when anyone pushed the Joker too far.

 

Not that Bruce fared much better in the few instances that he saw the Joker mishandled. Where guards in Arkham Asylum thought they could get their kicks off by unwarranted beatings against the clown. As a member of the Arkham board Bruce had made it one of his personal goals to make sure the accounts of abuse were diminished significantly. He had been witness to some of them and each time he felt a burning rage that he didn’t want to give a description to its reasoning. It was easier for his sanity to tell himself that those guards shouldn’t be abusing their power and ignore what really pissed him off so much was that it was the Joker who was being mistreated. It worked most of the time, but not always.

 

The reason he knew about that internal struggle within him is because of all the times he had saved the Joker’s life. The Clown Prince didn’t care much for his own well-being and the result of his lifestyle choices often put him in dangerous situations. There were times where the Joker had the misfortune of not being able to protect himself accurately enough to avoid major harm. Those instances always left Bruce in a state of mind that following his one rule became increasingly difficult. He told himself that the reason was because he thought of the Joker as everlasting. That nothing could kill the madman in the end, because Joker always survived situations most normal men wouldn’t. That only Batman could be the one to put the Joker out of commission, permanently, even if he never would. So, when that viewpoint was broken it shook him to his core. Brought out darker urges that he didn’t want to contemplate were even inside him. He’d avoid that train of thought as much as he could.

 

 

“But, you always get to talk to him. I want a turn!” Harley whined.

 

“Batsy, doesn’t want to talk to you.” Joker asserted; dryly. Even if the maniac was correct in his statement it still irritated Bruce that the clown was speaking on his own behalf.

 

“You don’t know that!” Harley rose her voice. Her own rising temper becoming more evident by the second. This wasn’t going to go well. It was also increasingly difficult for Bruce to care one bit.

 

 _“Yes I do.”_ Joker said in a deadpan manner.

 

Batman wanted to disagree with that assertion of his person, just for the sake of spite towards the manic; alone. It was a considerably petty need for indulgence, so he held back. Despite, the small satisfaction he could receive by incensing the Joker with that disagreement.

 

“Come on, Puddin! Please! I’ll make it real quick!” Harley begged.

 

“ _No._ Now get out! Harley! Put down the mallet. I’m not in the _mood_ for this shit.” Joker’s tone went from slight irritation to downright deadly.

 

Bruce heard the scuffle that was happening in the background. Something sounding like glass related breaking; not that he was positive. The phone clattering to the floor.  A few curses and a pained cry. The infamous sound of laughter that could mean a good number of different scenarios. None of them pleasant. It went on for close to two minutes. Sighing; he turned his attention back to the screen. Trying -failing- to ignore the insanity unfolding on the other side of the phone call. The Bat-computer was narrowing down on the Joker’s location to be somewhere in the Narrows. However, the signal still kept bouncing around even if at a slower rate. It wasn’t much to go off on, but it was something nonetheless. Still, Bruce knew he needed a more accurate location to even be close to succeeding at finding the Joker’s hide-out.

 

So, he stayed silent thinking on all the possible places the Joker could be from the small information he was gathering. Joker usually had a specific preference where he would choose his abodes. Not that it was always a guarantee with the Joker. He could change his mind easily and take up residence anywhere if the maniac wanted. It wasn’t a comforting thought; but he wouldn’t allow himself to be discouraged. Bruce had been so distracted from his musing; he almost completely missed Harley’s voice addressing him on the phone.

 

Looks like she had won that specific fight with the Joker; no matter how short lived it would undoubtedly be.

 

“Hiya B-man! It’s been awhile! How you feeling? I’m sorry about what happened to your kitty cat. Did you ever find her killer? When you do just let me know and I’ll _-oof!_ ” What was definitely the resonating sound of glass breaking this time was heard; followed by a high pitched yelp. Silence and then Bruce could hear the Joker’s heavy breathing in his ear.

 

In the short silence that it was taking place for the Joker to catch his breath; Bruce was feeling an overwhelming sadness coursing through his veins. He didn’t want to be reminded of Selina’s death. Didn’t want to contemplate his failures. For months he tried to keep the thoughts at bay and only focus on what needed to be done as Batman. It still felt so unfathomable that she was really gone. That he would never encounter her on the rooftops of Gotham City again. Never be entwined in her embrace on long nights where they could just simply exist together. He missed her terribly and all the blame of losing her in the first place was purely on him. While she was murdered; Bruce had been in the company of his greatest foe. Recuperating from injuries he sustained because he hadn’t been prepared for with the Militias ambush. 

 

 

“Fucking minx needs to learn her place and watch her mouth.” Joker muttered to himself; anger ever present.

 

The maniac always lost his temper whenever Batman’s past love interest was mentioned in his presence. Often times sending the murderous psychopath off the handles into an uncontrollable destructive rage. Bruce didn’t want to dwell on the accuracy of how the ire the clown felt could easily be placed on the Joker’s own jealousy regarding the attention Batman gave towards Catwoman. Though, to this very day, he still could see the gleaming triumphant in Joker’s acidic green gaze as they boded into Bruce’s blue as he told the Dark Knight of her fate. How the Joker observed with growing satisfaction each flash of heartache that showed through in his blue orbs. Soaking it all in like a euphoric inducing drug. Bruce could honestly say with a hundred percent certainty that was the happiest he’d ever seen the Joker in his life and he hated the other man for that.

 

“Sorry about that, dear. Now where were we?” Joker purred; happily.

 

“I was under the _impression_ she left Gotham.” Bruce observed with his statement. Last he had heard about Harley Quinn’s whereabouts was from the Joker telling him that she left Gotham when the militia made their appearance. He didn’t believe the madman at the time and obviously was proven that instinct was correct that the Joker had been lying.

 

“Who?” Joker asked in absolute confusion. Like he just didn’t have a violent fight over the phone. The second he had started talking to Batman again it was like he’d completely forgotten about Harley’s entire existence.

 

A sudden glimpse of information on the Joker’s thought process that did not settle very well within Bruce’s psyche. It felt safer for his own sanity to discard that knowledge, but knew he wouldn’t be able to.

 

“Quinn.”  Bruce clarified.

 

“ _Oh,_ Harls. Well, she’s back now. _Temporarily._ But, that’s not important. Not when I would much rather be talking with you. _Speaking of._ So, whatcha want to talk about, Bats? What could your good pal, Uncle J do for you? Do you need some fashion advice, darling? Your wardrobe really does need some color. That’s for sure.”

 

Joker took a considerably long pause before blurting out, “ _Wait._ Isn’t it past your bedtime? Is that why you called? Are you having _trouble_ sleeping, sweetheart? Wanna hear a _bedtime_ story? I mean, I’m more than _willing_ tell you one. So, just tucker down and listen to my sultry voice and _relax little, Bat,_ ”

 

Bruce would never do that in his life. That he was certain. If he ever did he was positive it would be the most restless sleep he would ever get which was saying a lot.

 

“Once upon a time there was this dashing young gent wearing a red hood-“ Joker was cut off from his ramblings when the cord to Bruce’s dwindling patience’s snapped in half.

 

 _“Shut up, Joker.”_ Bruce growled out his usual retort to the murderer when he was done dealing with the clown’s shit. It never had the desired result, but old habits die hard.

 

“ _Jeez_ , no need to be rude and do that wonderful enticingly _erotic_ growl of yours. I was only trying to help. _Hmpf._ Some flying rodents have no manners.” Joker said. His own escalating irritation palpable through the phone. 

 

Regardless, that wasn’t what caught Batman’s attention. Not that he ever really cared if Joker was pissed off at him or not. He’d dealt with that flaring temper countless times before. Even had plenty of scars coating his body to prove it. No. What his mind decided to purely focus on was the bitterness and longing in Joker’s tone regarding helping Batman. A small weakness that the Joker allowed to slip. One that Bruce needed to tread very carefully with utilizing for his own benefit.

 

“Do you really _want_ to help me?” Bruce questioned; slight hesitation -desperation- leaking into his tone against his will.

 

Joker seemed to catch Bruce’s own slip up as well. His voice going softer when he next spoke to the Dark Knight.

 

“Of course I do. _Don’t be silly._ I always _want_ to help you. Everything I do is to bring out the best in you,” there was so much adoration in Joker’s voice that it made Bruce have the instinct to recoil from the conversation. When Joker continued the previous edging sharpness came creeping back in the under-layers, “If only you just accepted it; already. We’d be in a much better place in our relationship.”

 

Bruce took a short moment to allow himself a pause before responding. He knew exactly what type of help the Joker was referring to. Had always been offering when Batman was concerned. Bruce knew he could never accept it. Doing so would destroy everything he stood for. Taint everything that he tried to accomplish. It would put him on the same level of insanity that the Joker relished in. A constant never ending battle between ideologies between them. Neither side budging an inch of ground. He did always wonder which one of them would end up breaking first in the end. All he could do was count on his own iron clad willpower that it wouldn’t be him giving way first. Joker was just as determined for the opposite to happen.

 

“If you want to help, then tell me where you are.” Bruce went back to the point of why he called in the first place. Taking quick glances at the computer screen every now and again. Still it would seem he wasn’t making much success in tracking the Joker down. At this point it was starting to bother him even more the precautions Joker put into place to avoid detection.

 

Joker’s mirthful laughter seemed to echo around Bruce through the cowl and he gritted his teeth in irritation. There were few things he loathed in life more so than that insane filled laugh. It taunted him for so many years now. Made him feel murderous whenever he heard it. That laugh was echoed with countless deaths and destruction. Just like the man it came forth from. It took Joker longer than usual to be calm enough to even continuing speaking and when he did; Bruce only wanted to break the Joker’s bones.

 

“Sounding a tiny bit _clingy_ there I gotta be honest with ya. Not that I’m complaining. Nope! Won’t hear one from me! _Hehe Haha!_ ” Joker paused for more fits of laughter to break free; before his tone went overboard on the flirtatious aspect, “It’s really flattering and endearing in an almost sickening sort of way. It makes me wonder if you’ll be on the next Hallmark card. _Hehe._ I bet you’re just dying to get your hands on me. _Wanna play rough don’tcha, Bat-Babe?_ You really did miss me. _How sweet._ What can I say, other than you have to buy a girl dinner first.”

 

“Joker, I’m being serious.” Bruce responded.

 

 _“Arentcha always?”_ Joker sounded an unsettling mix between bored and annoyed. “Really, you think after three weeks in my company you’d learn how to lighten up a bit.” Joker nonchalantly brought up there time together as if it was just a vacation between two old friends and not Batman fighting for his life.

 

“Would it kill you to laugh or at least smile? Gotta stop being so stubborn, batty boy. It’s not healthy. I don’t need you to up and die on me because of all that stress you refuse to let go of. Can’t have the big bad Bat losing his focus.” Joker growled out; suddenly. Pure unadulterated venom lacing that animalistic growl. Obviously being reminded of Batman’s close call with death six months ago. A topic of conversation that would never be easy on the either of them. One they both tried to avoid for months now. Not that they were around each other to even have it; which was no doubt the point of that absence.

 

A few heartbeats passed between them, before Joker continued speaking up again; already back to his usual mirthful self. His rapid mood swings would have given Bruce whip-lash if he hadn’t been accustomed to dealing with that very mannerism of the maniacs for years previously.

 

“Think of the people! Imagine what would happen to Gotham if you weren’t around?” Joker feigned empathy that they both knew he did not possess in a single bone in his body.

 

A beat.

 

“Scratch that! _Better, yet._ Imagine what would happen to me if I didn’t have my favorite playmate to keep the boredom at bay? I don’t think anyone would want that. I certainly wouldn’t.” Joker added.

 

“Stop.” Bruce was close to his breaking point. He honestly didn’t know how much more he could deal with when it came to the other man’s ramblings.

 

“Stop what? Ya gotta be more specific in your request, lover boy. Otherwise, how’s a dashing psychopath like myself to know what you really want?” Joker chided; pure mockery shining through, “See. This is what I’m talking about regarding your lack of conversational skills.” said Joker with amusement dripping from every word. Undoubtedly taking as much delight as he could muster from getting under Batman’s skin. From pushing his buttons. Attempting to crack away at any restraint or resolve the Dark Knight had.

 

“Can you just _stop_ playing games for once? This is important.” Bruce attempted to reason, but there was no reason to be found in insanity to the degrees of the Clown Prince of Crime possessed.

 

“ _I like games and so do you._ We will always be playing with each other.” Joker held so much certainty in his tone that even if Bruce attempted to disagree the maniac wouldn’t even acknowledge it at all.

 

“I kill people, you come out of your cave and our dance continues. You know you love it or you would have ended it ages ago. But, you don’t. You haven’t. _You. Never. Will._ No matter how much I push that little cape of yours in a mess.” His playful side slipped back to the surface, “That reminds me. How’d you like your gift?”

 

There it was. The open door to the topic of conversation that honestly shouldn’t have taken this long to get to. Curtesy of the Joker giving it freely which Bruce latched onto without a second thought on the matter. Now they both could finally be getting somewhere productive. Instead of waltzing around the topic like they’ve been doing. In a small way it was a type of game -power play- of their own making with each other. One they have done a thousand times over and will probably do a thousand times more.

 

“That’s why we _need_ to talk.” Bruce used as much seriousness as he could muster in his tone for that single response. Hoping that the Joker could see the gravity of the situation. In Joker-like fashion; he only found it another joke that wasn’t actually worth much of his attention.

 

“Well that’s obvious. I’m sure the whole room guessed that already.” Joker’s sarcasm was very much not needed right now.

 

“Joker, just listen to me. Whatever it is you’re planning. _Don’t. Do. It._ Just tell me where you are.” Bruce couldn’t hold it back anymore. All the desperation he had been feeling since earlier that night leaked into his voice. It was without a shred of doubt the closest to begging the Joker would ever get out of Gotham City’s protector.

 

Joker did what he had always done when he had the upper hand of the situation; he callously threw it in Batman’s face without restraint or regard to how it would affect Batman in the least. Taking every ounce of sadistic glee that he could find for the simple fact that it gave him amusement and pleasure. A sick trait that the clown was most adept at more than anyone.

 

“ _Heheh._ Careful. Your concern for my well-being is starting to show. Might want to get your head re-evaluated. I’m not sure you can handle all those pesky emotions floating around in that pointy eared noggin of yours; just yet. As stubborn with your self-denials as you are, all those thoughts coming to the surface, must feel so awful right now; don’t they?” Joker didn’t need an answer and wouldn’t get one even if he did. He was confident enough that he was correct. Joker didn’t even bat an eye as he continued his taunts on his evaluations of the Dark Knight’s mindset.

 

“The lack of control. I know you despise that more than anything. Are they eating you up inside? Twisting that little world you made for yourself on its axis? Tainting that _absurd_ and quite frankly _pointless_ , moral compass you try to uphold when all you really want to do is be free. To let go of everything _holding_ you back from being the Bat King that you’re _meant_ to be. It’s alright, darling. _I won’t judge you._ In fact. I want to help you spread your wings and fly,” his voice was poisonous with how sugary sweet it was, “I mean where would you be _without_ me? It’s just _dreadful_ to think about; isn’t it?”

 

“This is bigger than us and you know that.” was all Bruce responded back to all of the Joker’s assertions regarding him; which Joker made an audible scoff. Dismissing the concept all together with his reply.

 

“That’s where you’re wrong. Dark Knight. Nothing is more _important_ in this deranged little world of ours than us. _Absolutely. Nothing_.” Joker’s voice went deep on the last two words. Showcasing how serious he wanted his statement to be taken by Batman.

 

“That’s not true.” responded Bruce.

 

“Yes it is.” Joker disagreed.

 

 _“No. It’s. Not.”_ Bruce would not budge an inch with this.

 

 _“Yes. It. Is. Bats.”_ Joker followed suit in the same fashion.

 

“Joker. Stop. Talking,” his tone edged on warning.

 

 _“Joker. Stop. Talking.”_ Joker mimicked -disturbingly accurate- and Batman only growled in response.

 

“How do you like my impression of you? I think I almost have it down perfectly.” Joker chuckled all too pleased with himself.

 

“Stop changing the subject. I asked you a question; so answer It.” he demanded. To no satisfactory effect.

 

“What question? Refresh my memory for me. You know how scatterbrained I can get when hearing those growls of yours. It’s quite distracting.” Bruce heard the shiver in Joker’s voice and it just made him feel nauseous.

 

“Where are you?” Bruce gritted out through clenched teeth.

 

“ _Nah,_ I don’t really feel like telling you that secret. Figure it out yourself.” Joker completely dismissed him entirely.

 

Bruce knew he was getting nowhere with the Joker like this. So in response he pulled out what he knew was one of the clown’s own weaknesses. Joker’s unwavering obsession with Batman. It was the only thing that would ever be predictable with dealing with the psychopathic murderer.

 

“It’s very _unlike_ you, to pass up any _opportunity_ you have to see me. Why the sudden _change_ now?” Bruce did not waver a single reluctance at throwing Joker’s own fears that he had learned through their three weeks together right at him.

 

Joker never hesitated to do that very thing towards Batman; so why should Bruce hold back when it came to the Joker?

 

It didn’t sit well that he was putting himself on the same level as the murderer he always opposed on everything, but it wouldn’t stop him if it got the desired result.

 

“Is that what you’re worried about? Do you think I’ve lost my interest in you?” Joker sounded astonished as if that wasn’t even a possibility to be uttered, “That hurts. _Really. Really._ Hurts, Batsy,” said Joker. Tone lacking any of his usual amusement. In fact, he almost sounded depressed.

 

For a split second the guilt that he shouldn’t be feeling almost made Bruce do the unthinkable and apologize to the likes of the Joker. He had to bite his tongue to prevent himself from doing that. The clown may have saved his life six months ago, but he couldn’t delude himself into thinking for a second that he wasn’t dealing with the most dangerous man, Gotham has ever faced. Joker would never show regret for the countless lives he had taken over the years. Apologizes will never be owed to the Joker no matter how hurt the clown might feel. Batman sure as hell wasn’t about to start offering them now.

 

“Well if you need _reassurance_ so badly. Trust me, Batsy. I always want to have the pleasure of your company. _That won’t ever change. I promise_.” said Joker with so much conviction in his voice that Bruce believed him wholeheartedly. Some things would never change between them and Joker’s obsession with Batman was on the top of that list.

 

“If that’s the case then why bother hesitating in telling me where you are hiding out?” Bruce pressured and then added, “We both know; I’ll find you regardless or not you tell me.”

 

Joker seemed to contemplate what Batman had said for close to a minute. Only to laugh it all off in the end.

 

“Do you really believe that? _Hmm._ Because where I’m sitting, I don’t think you do. If you _could_ find me, you’d already be here by now, _breaking_ another one of my windows in those flashy entrances you always make. It must be such a hassle for you getting all that glass out of your suit. Have you ever _tried_ the front door in your life?” said Joker in that specific condescending tone he always used to irritate the other man. It worked as well as it always did. Even if Bruce didn’t give the Joker any satisfaction of acting out on his rising temper.

 

Instead, Bruce focused on something completely different.

 

“Knowing you, the front door would be rigged to an explosive.” Bruce muttered to himself.

 

He had learned that very assessment to be way too accurate in the earlier days of Joker’s criminal career in Gotham. It wasn’t one of Batman’s best night’s on the job. That one mistake of thinking that a front door would be harmless when it came down to the Joker, nearly cost him his life. A mistake he never made again. Another part of him contemplated if Joker already knew that and didn’t even bother anymore with rigging up explosives to the front doors of his hideouts. Joker would find that as a hilarious thing to do just to make Batman paranoid when there was actually no danger at all. Regardless, it was better safe than sorry when dealing with the maniac.

 

“ _HA!_ My, isn’t that just precious? _Awww,_ you know me so well. Such _adamant_ attention to detail is one of your best traits; I’d be bold enough to say. Still. How long did it take you to figure that one out, detective? Either way, my point still stands.” Joker responded.

 

“You can’t stay hidden forever, Joker. You’ll slip up and when you do; I’ll find you.” Bruce spoke confidently; even if he wasn’t as certain as he usually was in this instance. Joker didn’t want to be found and that was hurdle that Bruce had to jump.

 

“How’s that _attempt_ at tracking this call going for you, darling? Not all too well; I’d imagine.” The smugness was ever potent in the Joker’s tone.

 

Bruce glanced up at the computer screen. Joker was right even if Bruce didn’t want to admit it out loud. The Bat-computer was only able to track the phone call down to about seven city blocks which was way too narrow of a space to even attempt to accurately pin-point the Joker’s location before the madman left. Bruce estimated he would need at most another two minutes of Joker staying on the line to finally get the proper read. He knew he was running out of precious time of keeping the Joker’s attention. He needed to postpone Joker hanging up just long enough to have the location made available to him. The clown likes to ramble. All he needed to do was to keep the Joker talking. He could do this. He needed to do this. Two minutes; that’s all it would take and he’d have Joker’s whereabouts.

 

_Two minutes, felt like an eternity._

 

“How’d you-“ A pointless question was cut off as Joker had full intention of answering it before it was uttered.

 

“Don’t be so surprised that I know what you’re trying accomplish in this little game of yours. You’re becoming increasingly predictable by the day, _darling._ I’m not insane enough to think for one second that you would actually call me without having a plan in motion to track me down,” Joker growled out the words. His tone laced with unbridled rage. All of the ire directed at Batman. It only lasted for a few seconds before Joker let out a deep chuckle that Bruce wasn’t sure was even genuine.

 

Silence passed between them. One Bruce allowed to hang in the air for as long as possible. Only one minute left. Just one more minute. He was so close. When the silence was shattered, so was Batman’s chance of finding the Joker.

 

“Well, I hate to have to cut this conversation short, but I best be going now. I have an audience to entertain. Places to be. Pests to kill. _Ya know, how it is._ A comedian never gets a break. Same could be said for Bats.” said Joker.

 

“Joker, wait!” Bruce called out, but knew it would prove useless.

 

_He needed more time._

_Just a little more time to track the signal._

_Deep down he knew he wasn’t going to get it._

 

Joker wouldn’t allow that and had been messing with him this entire time. Giving him false hope just for he could snuff it out in a blink on an eye. Dangling everything Bruce wanted in front of him; just to rip it away when it was in reach. A sick game was all this ever seemed to amount to between the two men. One Bruce was getting so very _tired_ of playing.

 

“ _Sorry,_ but I can’t do that. I have some _muffins_ in the oven that need my attending. It was great to hear from you, Batsy. Don’t be a stranger! _Mwah!_ Bye-Bye!” with that said the connection to the call was lost and Bruce knew that he wouldn’t get another chance.

 

Bruce sat there in his chair as his blue orbs stared at the computer screen. The signal stopped with its tracing activity. Staying idle and only indicated a fraction of insight on a destination Bruce could search. It wasn’t enough. Joker would be gone by the time he got there even if he did find the clown’s hideout from the two block radius the Joker was admits in.

 

The sheer pointlessness of this entire endeavor was gnawing away at him.

 

The sounds of the elevator doors behind him indicating Alfred’s arrival in the Bat-cave went unnoticed. All he could do was sit there. His heart pounded away in his chest. Threatening to break through his rib cage. His emotions swirling around inside him. Trying to fight for dominance over which one to feel at that time. Disappointment, foreboding, rage, despair. Rage was winning out. Disappointment a close second. Trouble was he couldn’t place if he was angrier at the madman or himself. Probably himself. Footsteps resonated behind him and still he didn’t take a single glance at the approaching man. He knew he needed to calm down. To not lose control of himself. Though, every part of him demanded that he leave now and search. Just to do anything than think, but his body wouldn’t obey his command to move. He could feel his father figure’s gaze upon his back. Felt the elderly man’s presence behind him.

 

“Master Bruce,” Alfred spoke up; a certain wariness in his tone.

 

Bruce didn’t want to deal with this. But, he knew he couldn’t send Alfred away. It wouldn’t be fair to take out any of his frustrations on the elderly man he held so close to his heart. Avoiding everything would only concern Alfred more and Bruce wasn’t about to inflect that discomfort on the other man. Bruce took a deep breath. In. Out. In. Out. Then, when he was positive he was ready; he removed his cowl for a bit more time, when there was no more distractions to be found, he turned his chair and faced his father figure. It took less than a millisecond for Alfred to perceive his distress. A small frown forming on that stoic face of his butler.

 

“Sir, is _everything_ alright?” He asked; kindly, but worried.

 

 _No. Nothing was alright. In fact everything was downright awful._ Bruce didn’t say that; at least not in that way. However, the meaning would be the same, regardless.

 

“Joker is _active_ again.” said Bruce.

 

Four words that held all the meaning in the world. A storm was on the horizon and no one in Gotham City had a safe house to seek shelter in. Only a Batman to protect them and he was failing at his job. A militia was dangerous enough, but with a wild Joker card thrown in it only raised the stakes. So many lives could be lost in the crossfire of a war that was never meant to happen. Batman needed to be there to prevent it. Do everything in his power to do so. Against all odds he was determined to win. Gotham City needed that of him and he couldn’t let everyone down. Couldn’t let the Joker down; a small voice told him that he tried to shake off instantly.

 

“ _Oh, dear_ ,” Alfred, says, then adding, “Seems he has terrible timing as per-usual.”

 

“Indeed,” Bruce agreed. “He left a _message_ for me.” He added as an afterthought to divulge that information to his trusted advisor.

 

The grimace on Alfred’s countenance showed he knew exactly what type of message a man like the Joker would leave. Had known for the past several years between Batman and Joker knowing each other. They always held gruesome details and this time was no different in that regard.

 

“What did it say?” Alfred asked even if he didn’t want to know. Anything regarding the Joker always left his father figure feeling uneasy.

 

“He’s _planning_ on taking down the militia,” the look of disbelief was potent in Alfred’s stare. “Joker’s already killed a good handful of their men.”

 

“That doesn’t sound like something the Joker would bother his time with.” Alfred stated the obvious.

 

Which was the understatement of the century. Joker never went out of his way to do anything remotely beneficial for Gotham City. The Clown Prince was as destructive for the city Bruce loved as he was insane. The militia wouldn’t have crossed the Joker’s mind as more than an afterthought if those three weeks between them never happened. Sure, it could be as easily stated that the Joker would have killed the ones that might come -undoubtedly- after them, but that’s about as far as it would have gone. That would have just been self-preservation (not that Joker had much to begin with) while these circumstances it was flat out war. Bruce, however, could easily pick up on the Joker’s motives when no one else could. How everything lead back to Batman as it always had when it came down to the Joker’s actions.

 

“I would agree with you, but, this one time it’s not the case. Joker wants to keep the games going between him and me,” he hated admitting out-loud. “The militia interfered with that and now Joker’s taking it personally.” He finished.

 

Alfred was silent for a moment then says, “It would appear that the time you were forced to be around him has stuck with him deeper than we thought,”

 

“Alfred...” warned Bruce. Though it held no real weight.

 

Ever since Bruce had been back home from his time away with the Joker, Alfred and he rarely discussed what had happened during those three weeks. It was a heavy topic of conversation that Bruce wasn’t ready to dive into. All he divulged was small details to sate Alfred’s curiosity and concerns. A growing tension was allowed to linger between the two men. One that couldn’t be avoided forever, but neither knew where to start with dissipating. If Bruce had it his way they never would. Life was never easy on him, however and someday soon the dam would burst. This early morning, though he wouldn’t allow it to do so. Maybe, when everything was taken care of he would. Just not now. Fortunately, Alfred respected that. Which Bruce was grateful tremendously for even if he didn’t state it out loud.

 

“Just an observation, sir, though, I must say, as regrettable as it is,” he hesitated, “perhaps this one time we should let thing’s unfold without interfering. It might prove beneficial for Batman and Gotham in the long run.”

 

Bruce narrowed his eyes into a somewhat glare. He didn’t need to respond. There was no point to do so. They both knew that Bruce could never do that. Wouldn’t do that. There was too many variables and risks involved even if he didn’t state to the other man which one bothered him the most.

 

_How the Joker could die and Batman did not want that to happen._

 

Alfred wouldn’t be able to understand a confession of that high regard. No one would be able to. Most of this city often wished for the day that the Joker would perish and they would never have to deal with his mayhem again. Bruce couldn’t blame Gotham’s citizens for thinking that way. There were too many times he felt it all the same. How much easier his life would be without the grinning jester trying his damnedest to tear him down. The lives that would be saved if Joker wasn’t around to snuff them out. Everyone knew what type of plague the Clown Prince of Crime was on this city. Like most plagues people wanted them eradicated from existence. Batman, however, couldn’t allow that. Not after the few glimpses he saw of something better in the making during those three weeks. It’s all he had to hold on to now. It strengthened his resolve at keeping the Joker alive.

 

“It’s just a suggestion.” Alfred offered.

 

“Noted,” said Bruce. He paused, sighed and says, “Joker would agree with you on that front.” When Alfred raised a questionable brow. Asking a silent question. Bruce clarified, “He doesn’t want Batman involved in this. Joker wants me to stay out of it. He wants to do this on his own.” he almost said the reason for that line of thinking was because of how he almost died, but refused to bring it up again.

 

“Not that I want anything about myself comparable in any regard to that madman, but, I can see where he’s coming from. After what happened... I just. I don’t want to lose you, Master Bruce.” Alfred spoke with so much sorrow in his voice and it only made Bruce’s heart ache.

 

“I know, Alfred.” Bruce offered as much reassurance as he could. “I’m not planning on going anywhere, but I can’t stay idle with this.”

 

“I can still _dream_ that you would. Have you located him?” Alfred glanced up at the screen.

 

“Just the general area, nothing that’s concrete enough to have much results in finding him.” said Bruce. The boiling rage creeping back in under the surface because of the reminder. He needed to keep it in check. Needed a much needed distraction from all the emotions he felt. If he allowed it to take over then he wouldn’t accomplish a single thing. Which would be the worst possible outcome and one he needed to avoid at all costs. Luckily, for him; Alfred was there to offer just that. A needed distraction.

 

“In that case, sir. If Batman isn’t making much progress, perhaps, Bruce Wayne can.” Alfred replied with a knowing tint in his tone that caught Bruce’s immediate attention.

 

“I don’t follow,” said Bruce. Only to be handed a letter from the elderly man. He glanced down and read it. The plan already formulating in his mind. An invitation to a charity event in three days was what he’d been handed, from none other than the Mayor Quincy Sharp himself.

 

“You have been cordially invited to attend an event hosted by the one man who would know more about this militia group than anyone. Seems like the perfect opportunity to do some reconnaissance work. If you ask me.” said Alfred.

 

“You read my mind.” responded Bruce.

 

“I’ve known you long enough to do so, sir. Should I inform any of the number of women in your little black book that they may have a date with Bruce Wayne to prepare for?” There was a tinge of teasing there and Bruce allowed himself to smile.

 

“That won’t be necessary, Alfred. I think I’ll fly this one solo. Thank you.” said Bruce; not missing a beat.

 

“I’m sure they will be heartbroken over the news, sir.” Alfred replied; dryly.

 

“They’ll get over it.” was all Bruce said on the matter. Earning a small chuckle from the other man.

 

Bruce may have failed at locating the Joker like he wanted to, but at least he now had another opportunity on gaining more information on the Mayor and the Militia. Small victories were sometimes needed to be celebrated. It gave him focus no matter what small failures he experienced. He now had a goal to hold onto. A course of action to follow. If luck was on his side he’d be able to gather all the Intel he needed to take the militia down and with it the corrupt mayor as well. Bruce knew if he managed that then Joker’s plans would be fore-not and preventable. Joker would no doubt make his whereabouts known one way or another. He could count on that. He just hoped it would be sooner than later.

 

It wasn’t until the next day when he was in his office at Wayne Enterprises that Bruce could have slapped himself when the new found realization of Joker’s comment regarding muffins came back to him. Joker had been taunting him with small insight into one of his plans. Something, Bruce completely missed entirely until it was staring him right in the face with today’s newspaper. Five of Gotham City political officials had received Joker-toxin poisoned muffins the day before. All of the victims were closely working with the Mayor. It was even reasonable enough to assume that they would have been on the militia plans for Gotham as well. Joker must have figured that much out on his own and took what the clown would consider as appropriate action in dealing with them. Cold blooded murder. Something the Joker excelled at to frightening degrees. There was, however, one problem that unfolded in the Joker’s muffin poisoning plan. A factor that was just as unpredictable as the Clown Prince of Crime himself. The worse part was that even Bruce could see the morbid humor that Quincy Sharp had only survived the assassination attempt on his life, because, he was allergic to the berries that were in those said poisoned muffins and refused to eat them. Even if Bruce wasn’t around to hear it he could effortlessly imagine the Joker laughing his head off at the morbid irony. The sad part was he wanted to let out a bitter laugh as well.


End file.
